Vegan Marshmallows Are a Thing
by purrpickle
Summary: Sequel to chapter one of Pezberry Week '12, and my entry for Pezberry Week #3 Day Three: Camping Trip. Finally settling into her role as William McKinley High's track team's star runner, Rachel is still struggling to adjust to the new coach. Because, to Rachel's endless consternation, Coach Lopez doesn't seem to be the least bit interested in making it easy.


**A/N: **I don't own Glee nor the characters within. This is my entry for Pezberry Week #3 Day Three: Camping Trip. It's a continuation of Pezberry Week '12's first chapter (AU), which I would suggest you read first or else you'll be going, "Huh?"

Anyway, I wanted to get this finished in a nice tight one-shot like I've been able to rattle off lately, but that just wasn't working, and I need to get _something_ out before I can turn my mind to today's actual prompt of Time Travel. Hopefully, it won't take me too long to finish this. Until that time comes, enjoy~

* * *

Rachel wasn't completely surprised when the marshmallow she'd just been about to stick on her roasting stick was snatched out of her hand. That didn't mean, however, that she wasn't frustrated. "Do you _mind_?" she demanded, glaring at the woman who had stolen it, "You have no right – "

Santana Lopez, coach of the track team – _her_ coach – shook her head, giving her an arrogant smile. "Berry, you are on _my _track team. Being _part_ of that track team means I get a say in your already insane diet. And these?" She held up the marshmallow, smirking and popping it into her mouth; Rachel gasped, her glare deepening, "Aren't part of that diet.

"Besides," Turning, snapping at Puck to get his hands off of Lauren, Lopez threw over her shoulder, "Your boyfriend gave you the wrong kind. Here." She tossed something at Rachel, making her scramble before it fell to the ground, "These are the vegan ones. I know how _precious _that is to you."

Disbelieving, Rachel drew her flashlight out of her pocket when the flickering light from the campfire wasn't bright enough. And, indeed, unopened and exactly like when she'd bought them earlier that day, Rachel's marshmallows waited for her. Anger spiking at Finn's callous mistake – he should _know _by now what she would and would not eat! – Rachel let out an exasperated growl when she noticed, written in her coach's hand, _ONLY 3 PER DAY, UNICORN_.

Normally, something like that would have made her give up and throw the bag away like a petulant child, but… Sighing sharply, she stomped back towards the campfire. She was sixteen now. And regardless of her behavior in glee club and Mr. Schuester, Coach Lopez inspired a different kind of resentful, grudging respect. Probably like what Coach Sylvester did to her cheerleaders, if she thought about it.

Still, "Why is that woman even _here_?" she groused to Tina, who was pulling at a gooey marshmallow to see if it was ready.

"Miss Pillsbury refused to come out into the wilderness, remember?" Frowning, putting her marshmallow back into the fire, Tina glanced over at her. "Hey, you get your own bag?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You can try some, but I have no idea how they'll taste to you." At Tina's uncomprehending expression, she sighed. "They're vegan."

"Oh." Tina leaned back. "Never mind. I'll take my bad for me ones anytime."

"Sounds like a plan," Mike said as he took a seat next to Tina; a half-eaten s'mores already in his hand, he wrapped his other arm around Tina. "You look a little cold, babe."

Tina smiled, leaning into him. "Better now, thanks."

Rachel's heart thudded heavily in her chest. Shouldn't Finn be here, with her? Looking around the still darkening clearing, she could see him now helping Sam set up his tent. Well, she smiled, settling back, okay then. At least he was doing something good.

Even if he had given her the wrong kind of marshmallows. But even that couldhave just been the poor light. Shrugging, sighing, figuring it wasn't worth it, Rachel opened her bag.

It was the first night of the glee three day weekend camping trip. It was early March, early enough between Regionals and Nationals that even Rachel couldn't protest about losing potential preparation time for Nationals, as, well, honestly, she had to turn a large part of her attention on getting ready for the track and field season to officially start, too.

Which was partly why she was so annoyed that her track and field coach had come on this trip as another chaperone. In between the glee bonding activities and vocal exercises, Lopez had had her running her own drills. Lunges, sprints, timed jogs – it was only the first day, and she knew it would only get worse.

Thing was, Rachel couldn't complain because she had brought it on herself. She'd missed the last few practices due to a singing competition out of state, and the only way her coach would allow her to stay on the team was if Rachel was at her mercy during the glee trip. Figuring Mr. Schuester would be able to put a stop to the younger teacher's plans, Rachel had readily agreed.

But that hadn't happened. Mr. Schuester seemed all too delighted to let Rachel be under Lopez' command, almost as if, the girl had a sneaking suspicion, he was using it as a means to tire Rachel out sufficiently enough that she wouldn't fight him on matters of all things glee. Unfortunately for him, however, Rachel was determined to keep her wits about her, no matter how worn out she was by endurance and leg strengthening drills. She just hoped no one would take advantage of it.

She looked up when Quinn appeared next to her. Smoothing down her camping shorts, she took a seat on the log, far enough way to make it obvious she didn't want to be too close to Rachel but still close enough that it was apparent that's why she was there. She didn't have a roasting stick, after all, though maybe she was just cold, Rachel looked the girl over, noting she hadn't zipped her jacket up all the way yet.

After a couple of seconds of suffering Mike, Tina, and Rachel's curious gazes, Quinn rolled her eyes. "Right," she started, turning her head stiffly towards them, "Don't you have something else to be doing than staring at me like idiots?"

Grumbling, huffing, Tina and Mike went back to cuddling while eating their s'mores and roasting their marshmallow. Rachel, for her part, went back to arranging two of her own marshmallows onto her roasting stick. Though it was a little uncomfortable being so close to her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend, Rachel rationalized it as hopefully she was beginning to become somehow more socially acceptable since her joining the track team, and told herself she should get used to it.

"Do you really think cheerleading's a sport?"

Having not expected that abrupt non sequitur, Rachel accidentally pushed too hard and pricked her finger with the end of the roasting stick tine. Hissing, she stuck her finger into her mouth. Sucking for a second, she looked back at Quinn. "I do," she answered as if it was obvious, "Why wouldn't it be?"

Quinn's eyes, dark and reflecting the firelight, flicked away. "You're the only one who does," she leaned back, shrugging her shoulders and looking up at the night sky.

"Well, people are naïve and often opinionated in the worst way possible." Moving her situated marshmallows above the flames, Rachel knew she was talking about her boyfriend and the other jocks in glee. "Track's a real sport, too," she added.

Quinn ignored that. "We're nationally ranked champions. We have trophies and sponsors and _endorsements_. Do the Titans have that?"

The Titans certainly didn't. Even under Coach Beiste's talented coaching, they just couldn't seem to become better than one win out of three.

But Quinn didn't wait for her to answer. Shifting, tucking her hair behind her ear, the blonde groaned, finally zipping her jacket and putting her hands out to soak up the heat, the flames flickering red through her skin. "What _is _your track team called, anyway? Are you also the Titans?"

Shaking her head, Rachel turned her marshmallows over. "No, we're just generally known by WMHS. Unlike your Cheerios." She offered Quinn a small smile.

"Hmm." Not reacting as Brittany, Kurt, Mercedes, and Artie, in a special outdoor model wheelchair, gathered across the fire, chattering happily between them, Quinn sighed, her air of approachability disappearing. Standing up, smoothing down her shorts again, she paused, wavering, then, pretending like she was bending to take one of Rachel's marshmallows, she said lowly, quickly, "I can't outwardly show you support, but good luck at your meet."

Shocked frozen, Rachel blinked, then nodded stiffly. "Okay. Thanks."

Plucking a marshmallow from the bag on Rachel's lap, Quinn straightened and popped it into her mouth… Only to sputter and turn away, spitting it into her hand. "What's _in _this thing?" she demanded, stomping to the fire to throw the marshmallow into it, "It's not even _shaped_ normal!"

Rachel cleared her throat. "That was a vegan marshmallow, Quinn. The 'normal' ones are near the coolers. Though I really must recommend you should stay away from those as well."

Quinn scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever, RuPaul. You can keep your strange hippy Jewish diets to yourself."

Before Rachel could answer, Tina's warning, "_Rachel_!" made her jerk her head around to see her marshmallows on fire. "Great," she growled, sticking them further into the fire to help melt them off. Bringing the stick back to herself, balancing it on her knees and making sure to keep the heated part far, far away, Rachel pulled out another marshmallow. Letting it melt onto the prong, she was just about to take another one out when the bag was snatched out of her grasp.

"Nuh-uh, Berry. Only three a day, remember?" Coach Lopez smirked down at her, holding the marshmallows hostage above Rachel's head.

"But – two caught fire – I didn't even – _this is my first one_!"

"Tough. Them's the rules, which I _knows _you read." Shaking her head, the woman walked towards the girls' cabin with a flippant, "You should really pay more attention, hmm?" while rolling the marshmallow bag closed.

Glaring at her back, stewing, Rachel almost screamed when Tina hesitantly offered her one of her non-vegan marshmallows. Instead, snapping her lone marshmallow into the flames again, she muttered, "Just wait until I get home; I'm going to have my _own _fire with as many marshmallows as _I_ _want_."

* * *

Later, after all taste of her marshmallow was out of her mouth, Finn had joined her, taking a seat on the ground in front of her so she could wrap her arms around his neck and cuddle into his back, and Mr. Schuester had somehow gotten all of them to sing the corniest campfire song known to man: Down By the Bay, the cool damp night had started to settle. Though she loved having Finn in her arms and he was warm by himself, he did manage to block the fire's full effect.

After shivering for the eleventh time, Rachel decided there was no point on torturing herself anymore. Kissing Finn's ear, waiting for a lull in his conversation with Puck, she whispered, "I'm going to grab a jacket."

"Okay. You want me to come with you?" Finn asked, smiling at her, squeezing her leg.

Rachel considered it. However, it wasn't very far to the girls' cabin, and she had her flashlight. "No," she smiled back, kissing him quickly, "Just save my spot." Standing, shuffling off of the log and stretching, groaning as she realized she wasn't drinking enough water to help with her sore legs, Rachel switched on her flashlight, gave Finn a small wave in appreciation for his concern in watching her walk off, and started down the path towards the cabin after informing Mr. Schuester of her intent.

The girls' cabin was situated behind both the boys' cabin and the restroom complex, farther in the trees but closer to the lake shore. Meeting Mercedes and Tina on the way back from the restroom, she gave them a small nod, unwilling to stay and chat as she had no more constant heat against her skin. Rubbing her arm and watching the faint smoke of her breath curl up from her mouth, Rachel couldn't stop her ears from straining to catch every single noise coming from around her as she moved farther from the welcoming circle of her friends' voices. Leaves crunching underfoot, hooting of owls and the mating calls of various bugs, not to mention the slight wind making her skin prickle, it was a little scary. She picked up her pace.

Finally, catching a glow through the trees at the bend of the road, she let out an embarrassing sigh of relief and hurried the rest of the way. Opening the door, she wondered who she'd find in there already, as she'd been certain all of the girls (minus Tina and Mercedes) had been at the campfire.

Coach Lopez was lounging on her bed, reading a book and eating one of Rachel's marshmallows.

Rachel blinked. _Coach Lopez was lounging on her bed, reading a book and eating one of Rachel's marshmallows?_

"I… I _paid_ for those," she burst out.

The older woman didn't look phased at all, turning the page in her book and not looking up, "With your own money?"

Rachel scrunched her brow. _Why_ did it matter? "Well, my allowance, but… That doesn't matter!" She stomped over towards her coach, stopping a still proper amount of distance away.

Lopez finally shut her book, dog-earing a page and tossing it onto her pillow. She raised an eyebrow, corners of her lips arched up. "I _am_ your coach," she reminded Rachel, needlessly extremely self-satisfied.

What was the woman _getting_ out of this? "I'm pretty sure that's _stealing_," Rachel retorted, crossing her arms. "And if you'd just _asked_, I'd have been _happy_ to give you one."

Lopez shrugged. "Not as fun." Taking advantage of Rachel's stunned silence, she smoothly rose from her bed and glanced at the watch on her wrist. She hmmed, "It's still early. Already turning in?"

"I'm getting a jacket," Rachel grumbled, turning to her own bed. Part of her wanted to march straight up to Mr. Schuester and turn Coach Lopez in, but it _was _only a marshmallow, no matter the principle of the thing. This woman – she aggravated Rachel and tested her patience and made her push her already high limits, and she, she just – couldn't she do all that _without_ being so _arrogant_? And _stealing her marshmallows_?

"Right." Lopez didn't sound convinced at all, "Well, hurry up and I'll walk you back to the fire."

"Weren't you reading a book and eating my marshmallows?"

Lopez chuckled. "I ate five, and I got to where I wanted to get."

Yanking her letterman jacket out of her suitcase, Rachel whirled around. "That's two more than I could! Four more if you make it literal."

Her coach smirked at her. "_You_ are a student. I'm not. Best be remembering that, Berry."

Ugh. Just how old _was _the woman, anyway? Affixing an indifferent expression on her face, Rachel shrugged her jacket on, lifting her hair out of the collar. "Fine," she walked back over to the door of the cabin, "If you must accompany me, shall we?"


End file.
